The Tricky Thing About Trust
by akatolstoy
Summary: Missing scene from ATY: Vaughn mourns his lost friendship with Weiss and traces the development of his relationship with Sydney, before making a fateful decision.


Title: The Tricky Thing About Trust  
  
Author: akatolstoy  
  
Email: akatolstoy@hotmail.com  
  
Feedback: this is my first fan-fic. Please read and respond.  
  
Distribution: email me first and tell me the web address of your archival site.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, or any of its characters. It all belongs to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC, Touchstone, etc.  
  
Summary: Missing scene from ATY: Vaughn mourns his lost friendship with Weiss and traces the development of his relationship with Sydney, before making a fateful decision.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Classification: Angst, S/V Romance  
  
Spoilers: "The Solution," "Rendezvous," "After Thirty Years"  
  
Fifteen minutes after being suspended and removed as Sydney's handler, Agent Michael Vaughn sat as his desk, his head in his hands and his fingers splayed through his hair.  
  
Trust is a tricky thing.  
  
Is that what Eric had said just moments before betraying him to that SOB, Haladki?  
  
Vaughn knew Weiss had misgivings--serious misgivings--about his relationship with Sydney. Hell, Eric had told him to his face that his feelings for Sydney would get all three of them in serious trouble. But to go to that sniveling bastard Haladki, whom Vaughn knew Eric hated as much as he himself did, and tell him that Vaughn suspected Sydney wasn't telling him everything she knew about Will's kidnapping felt like a blow to the solar plexus.  
  
Vaughn didn't expect Weiss to keep covering for him. That wasn't it. He knew that whatever risks he took on Sydney's behalf were his own. He thought Eric had understood, was even sympathetic, but he supposed that had ended when Devlin had reprimanded Weiss for what had happened in Denpasar.  
  
The fact was Weiss had drawn a boundary beyond which his friendship for him would not extend, because Vaughn had not known--still didn't know--how to lay boundaries on his relationship with Syd. Inwardly, Vaughn groaned, remembering the rest of the Denpasar conversation he had had with Weiss.  
  
What else had Eric told Haladaki about him? That he himself had admitted he didn't know how to be Sydney's handler "without making it personal?" Christ! No wonder Devlin had suspended him and removed him as Sydney's handler.  
  
He had tried. Honest to God, he had. After the Denpasar conversation with Eric, he had vowed he would conduct his meetings with Sydney in the most formal and professional manner possible, no matter how stilted and awkward it seemed. He had actually attempted it at their next meeting, but Sydney had seen through this charade as quickly as he had sensed during their last meeting that someone had contacted her about Will. They simply knew each other too well at this point to play games with each other.  
  
So, why hadn't she confided in him? Vaughn knew Jack Bristow had suspected for a long time that "The Man" had a mole inside the CIA and that the mole was none other than Haladki. But, did Jack really think that Vaughn would do anything to jeopardize Sydney or her cover? Haladki was the last man on earth Vaughn would confide in.  
  
But there was one person Haladki knew Vaughn did confide in and that was Eric Weiss.  
  
Trust is a tricky thing.  
  
Vaughn's stomach gave a sickening lurch, as the realization hit home. Had Eric been feeding Haladki information all this time? Was that how Haladki found out about the Christmas present he had given Sydney, for instance? More importantly, was that how Sark was able to compromise the safe house and kidnap Will? If so, "The Man" knew all the details of Sydney's covert missions, and her status as a double agent had been compromised. Her life was in danger.  
  
Vaughn tried to push these thoughts out of his mind. There was no way in hell Eric was a traitor. It just didn't seem possible that his ridicule and hatred of Haladki simply had been an act to prevent his friend from realizing the truth.  
  
Yes, Eric had betrayed his trust by telling Haladki and Devlin about his suspicions, but only because Eric felt it had been necessary in order to protect the interests of the Agency. And, yes, Eric may have become preoccupied lately with advancing his own career, but he had joined the CIA for the same reasons Vaughn himself had: to serve and protect his country. Hadn't he?  
  
Vaughn ran his fingers distractedly through his hair and shook his head to clear it. Eric was his friend and had been ever since they had been in training. Ironically, it had been Eric Weiss who had first demonstrated to him that this job was more than just procedure, protocol, and office politics--that friendships could develop even under the most stressful conditions and that humor could lift, if only momentarily, the weight of responsibility each of them felt for the agents under their care.  
  
It was also Eric who had been the first to realize just how quickly he had fallen for Syd.  
  
Had it really been so soon after she had walked into his office with that wild, fire-engine-red, Run-Lola-Run, hair? He remembered coming out of what would become one of many worry-induced reveries shortly after being assigned Sydney's handler, hearing Eric wisecrack, "Your girlfriend's name is Alice, right? Just checking."  
  
Alice. In reality, his relationship with Alice had ended long before Sydney had stepped into his life, a casualty of his long hours at work and their growing awareness that they shared little beyond the physical aspect of their relationship, but they had remained together--out of what? Inertia? Convenience? A mutual desire to avoid confrontation?  
  
But the confrontation came anyway, when Alice suspected that he was having an affair with someone from work. He couldn't blame her. Not when he had to keep finding excuses for his surreptitious meetings with Sydney. He tried to reassure her, but his assurances were hollow at best, because he suspected Alice was right. There was only one woman who occupied his thoughts now, and that was Sydney Bristow.  
  
Vaughn had no idea how to characterize his feelings for Sydney. Alice had thought it was a sexual affair, but his feelings for Sydney went far beyond the physical, even if he had had the opportunity to act upon them. Eric had called it a crush, and perhaps that was how it began, though the word offended him with its sophomoric implications of puppy-like infatuation.  
  
Could a single word encompass the complexities of their relationship and the feelings she aroused in him? In a fifteen-minute meeting with her, he could move through the entire emotional spectrum from consternation at her willfulness, to delight at the appearance of her infrequent smile, awe at her selfless courage, and finally trepidation that she could see through his professionalism and discover that his primary concern when they met was to comfort her and protect her from further harm.  
  
Maybe there was a word for it and a simple one at that: love.  
  
He loved Sydney Bristow, with a passion so deep and wide he couldn't fathom it; he loved her so much that it made him gasp for breath sometimes, fighting for air almost as if he were drowning.  
  
What he really wanted to know was how did Sydney Bristow characterize what she felt for him?  
  
He took comfort in the fact that she sought him out at her lowest points. Certainly, he was her confidant, her friend, and increasingly her partner in crazy-assed schemes to compromise SD-6. Vaughn still couldn't believe he had assisted her in stealing artifacts from an art museum in Algiers, much less had helped her break into the Vatican, and that together they had prevented McKenas Cole from taking down the Los Angeles branch of SD-6.  
  
He doubted Sydney knew how much she had touched him by proposing they go to a hockey game together, no matter how impossible it was to do so while he continued to work for the CIA and she remained a double agent infiltrating SD-6. Alice had hated hockey, with a loathing that almost matched his own passion for playing and watching the game. How great would it have been to have been in the stadium, cheering for his favorite team with Sydney at his side? But, in the end, he had been forced to turn down her invitation to the Kings' game, just as she, in turn, had to turn down his proposal to dine at Trattoria di Nardi while they were in Rome.  
  
Strangely, it didn't matter that the mother who had abandoned her as a little girl had also killed his father. Somehow it had only brought them closer together, knowing that they had both suffered so much on account of Laura Bristow's treachery. Vaughn smirked. Try explaining that to Dr. Barnett in a way that didn't confirm that his feelings for Sydney--and he hoped, her feelings for him--were "inappropriate."  
  
Sydney had implied that she had wanted him to be a part of her life, not in the covert way he managed to be during their clandestine meetings in the warehouse, but out in the open. In response, he had acknowledged during their talk at the observatory, that he wanted nothing more than to be able to take her out for pizza, to look at her and not be afraid that someone may be watching. Without a doubt, they had each been "reacting emotionally."  
  
Of course, that was all before Noah Hicks.  
  
Vaughn couldn't help but feel hurt when Sydney had distanced herself from him after Noah had reappeared in her life. She had told him once that she wanted there to be one person in her life to whom she didn't need to lie, and Vaughn had sensed she wanted that person to be him. He was certain, though, that Sydney had not told him everything about her relationship with Noah.  
  
She seemed as embarrassed talking about Noah in front him as he felt asking her about him. And, frankly, Vaughn didn't want confirmation of what he already suspected was true--that she had slept with Noah Hicks in Arkangelsk. So, rather than confront her, he had watched in consternation as Sydney's desire to spare his feelings battled with her equally strong desire not to keep any part of her life hidden from him.  
  
Trust is a tricky thing.  
  
Vaughn knew whatever had briefly reignited between Sydney and Noah had died with Noah in the knife fight. Of course, it still made him sick with jealousy to think of them together, wishing that it had been him--not Noah, and certainly not Will--whom she turned to when she needed to be close to someone.  
  
He ached to hold her in his arms, to caress her, to kiss her, to tell her that he loved her and would never-ever--leave her. But, would either of them ever have the courage to embark on a relationship which would require them to outwit both SD-6 and the CIA, especially after what had happened to Danny?  
  
Vaughn heaved a long, drawn-out sigh. When Sydney had told him that she and Noah had been forced to keep their past relationship a secret, because SD-6 frowned on fraternization between agents, he couldn't help but remind her rather pointedly that the CIA had the same policy--a policy (he tried to imply) that could be thwarted, as well.  
  
Had she picked up on the meaning behind his words? He hadn't been sure at the time, but lately he had started to hope--despite Eric's warnings and his own insecurities--that she cared for him and someday might be willing to risk it. He couldn't blame her, though, for pulling back when he had made tentative advances. Hadn't he done the same, when she sought to cross the line?  
  
Vaughn knew Noah's duplicity had hurt her deeply, but he also knew Noah's betrayal would not have been as painful if it hadn't been the latest in a long string of deceptions she had had to endure. Over the past year, he had seen first hand how her world had crumbled under the weight of all the lies she had been told by people she had once trusted. "It affects me," she had told him. "Never knowing who to trust, learning to expect betrayal."  
  
Vaughn couldn't say at this point where their relationship might lead, but, if nothing else, he wanted to prove to Sydney that even if everyone else failed her, she could trust him--completely.  
  
Devlin had wanted him to spy on her, retrieve the ampoule Jack had taken from CIA archives as well as the blank Rambaldi page Sydney had stolen from SD-6, and try to foil whatever plans she and Jack had for going after Will. Vaughn had refused, stating adamantly that he would not spy on his own agent. He would under no circumstances betray her trust. That's when Devlin had demoted him, suspended him for two weeks without pay, and removed him as Sydney's handler--permanently. Weiss had been promoted in his place and Haladki had been made Sydney's handler. Could things have turned out any worse?  
  
Vaughn picked up the silver dollar that he always kept on his desk. It had been his father's--one of the few keepsakes he had to remember him by. Its ridged edges were worn smooth from Vaughn's own repeated handling of it. Just touching it seemed to conjure up old memories that made him feel as if a part of his father had not died, but remained with him to counsel him and comfort him when troubles arose.  
  
But, Vaughn did not feel the same sense of comfort now, as he thought of his father. What would his dad think, if he could see him now? What would he say, seeing his son disgraced, as a result of an "inappropriate attachment" to an agent under his care? Vaughn knew that his father had not always agreed with "company" policy and that he had sometimes questioned the missions he was sent upon. He had read in his father's diaries all the things the elder Vaughn had wanted to tell his superiors, but never did. The truth was that William Vaughn had been an exemplary agent who had esteemed the CIA more than his own life. He had fulfilled the orders his superiors gave him and had never once refused a mission.  
  
Unlike his son.  
  
However, Vaughn knew that if there was anything his father had held in higher regard than his job, it had been his family. William Vaughn had made superhuman efforts to do his job well without letting it compromise his relationship with his wife and son, and he had succeeded--that is up until he crossed paths with Laura Bristow, aka Irina Derevko, and never came home again.  
  
Vaughn knew his father had had forebodings about what would turn out to be his final mission. Had his father weighed the possible outcomes and chosen to go anyway? Or, had he simply dismissed his forebodings and pressed forward, hoping that this mission would turn out as successfully as all the rest? Would he have chosen differently if he had been certain of the outcome and its devastating effect on his wife and son?  
  
Even at an early age, Vaughn had been aware that his parents' relationship differed from those of his friends' parents in a way he couldn't quite define. It was only now that he realized his parents' marriage had remained passionate long after the desire in most marriages died out. His father's eyes had lit up every time he saw his wife walk into a room. His mother had glowed, just standing by her husband's side.  
  
He recalled how they had sought out opportunities to touch one another: a pat on the hand, a squeeze of the shoulders, a light kiss brushed across the back of the neck or cheek.  
  
Vaughn could still remember what their voices had sounded like from the next room: his father's low, good-humored American voice, a counterpoint to his wife's lilting, mellifluous, Gallic one. His parents' conversations had often been punctuated by laughter: his mother's had been soft and throaty, while his father's had been loud and unexpectedly boisterous for such a quiet man.  
  
Although she had hid it well for his sake, Vaughn knew his mother had been devastated by his father's death. An incandescent light deep inside her had been snuffed out when William died. Vaughn recalled seeing a faint flicker of its former glow on the rare occasions when she allowed herself to reminisce, but it was like the light traveling from a star which had burned out eons ago: pale, cold, bereft, and infinitely sad. Vaughn had seen the same faint flicker in Sydney's eyes at the pier, the night she grabbed his hand, and the immediate and overpowering urge to comfort and protect this beautiful, unaccountably strong, yet fragile, woman he hardly knew had shaken him to the core.  
  
He was beginning to think he understood his parents' relationship better now than he ever had. The strong, vibrant connection he had felt between his parents was the same connection he felt drawing him to Sydney, and it had only grown since that night on the pier. He would not allow the CIA or anything else to come between them. He would not repeat his father's mistake.  
  
The tricky thing about trust and loyalty--even patriotism, for that matter-- was that these ideals all became corrupted in the abstract, when not linked to the individual or individuals you loved. It was impossible to betray the one without compromising the other. Damn Laura Bristow; damn Arvin Sloane; damn Noah Hicks; damn that bastard Haladki; and damn Eric Weiss. They had all betrayed their co-workers, friends and loved ones in the name of a higher cause and look at the evil that had resulted!  
  
The CIA could suspend him, Devlin could even remove him as Sydney's handler, but they could not prevent him from going to her when she needed him. When forced to choose between what was in the best interest of the CIA and what was in the best interest of Sydney Bristow, he would choose what was best for Syd every time. If she and her father were planning to rescue Will through back channels, he was going to be in on it, come what may.  
  
Vaughn got up, grabbed his suit jacket, and headed out the door. He had to find Sydney, and the first place he would look would be the observatory. 


End file.
